


Escaping

by InkSplodge



Category: Baby Driver (2017)
Genre: 18-Year-Old Baby, Age Difference, Arguing, Doc Cares About Baby, Face Slapping, Hand Jobs, Heist Aftermath, M/M, Money, Pre-Movie(s), Roughness, Swearing, Threats of Violence, empty threats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-10 06:00:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12292788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkSplodge/pseuds/InkSplodge
Summary: With a change of scenery for the headquarters, Baby isn't happy. Multiple frustrations build up until Baby is forcing Doc to raise his hand, but the situation doesn't go the way Baby expects it to.





	Escaping

**Author's Note:**

> Initial song inspiration: _Fire Escape_ by Foster The People

The change of scenery for the base of operations didn’t suit Baby at all, mainly due to the dislike of the décor. Mahogany furniture with green and gold accents. It was like being stuck in a film noir film but with colour. Out of everyone they worked with, Doc was the only one who managed to fit with the new surroundings, and that was only on a good day. The reason behind the abrupt change was due to the regular hangout being searched by the police, and with them in Doc’s pockets, had tipped him off thus making this place temporarily.  Baby still frowned at it.

Now, on the second heist within the new location, the team had just returned from a successful heist. The only wait was Doc counting out the money.

By the window opposite the desk, Baby stood with his arms crossed; sunglasses on and earphones in. He watched as the three thugs all took a duffle bag of their share. On leaving, they said bye to Doc but didn’t even spare a look to Baby, even though he was the reason any of them were alive.

Baby watched all of them leave before they shut the door behind them. When turning back to study the room, Doc was standing at the desk still, a wedge of money ready for Baby. It was outstretched, Doc not even paying full attention to him.

Gazing back to the door, Baby spoke.

“I don’t fucking want it.”

In the corner of his eye, Baby saw Doc look up to him, shocked. Then he made a small smile, zipping up both bags, the wedge now placed on the table.

“That’s the most you’ve talked all month, Baby.”

“Fuck you,” Baby responded, feeling irritation crawling over his skin. It was quiet though, trying to keep everything from boiling over.

He heard Doc sigh, then watched him clean his glasses with a cloth. “Do I need to repeat the speech where I tell you how I could break your legs and kill everyone you love?” Glasses now replaced, the two watched each other closely.

“Do it then.”

Baby was surprised at his own response, the bubbling anger now reaching his lips. Arms stay crossed though, trying to keep the act.

A short smile was given before Doc placed his hands onto the desk in front. “I was wondering when the spoilt brat façade would come. Few years too late though, Baby.”

“Fuck you.” This time Baby said it loud, feeling his muscle tense through his body. It was as though he was doing something treacherous; but still felt chills run up his back.

Watching, Doc took a deep breath. He then reached for the wedge again. “Take your share, Baby.”

Pushing himself away from the wall, Baby marched forward, grabbing it from Doc’s hand. He held it up, looking between the wedge and then Doc.

“I don’t fucking want it.”

Then Baby then threw it at him.

It had only thudded against Doc’s chest, rustling the tie from its position, before falling to the table. With a look down, Doc then returned eye contact to Baby. His eyebrow arched, clearly irritated.

Baby felt a chill run up again, the hairs at the back of his neck on end. Hopefully he would get a reaction from Doc now, something he hadn’t got in a while. He watched as Doc straightened his tie.

For a moment Baby knew physically throwing things had crossed the line, so nothing he could do would matter now.

“So fuck you.”

Once more Doc scanned him, leaning over the table for a minute.

“Now that you’re finally stringing sentences together, Baby, tell me this. Don’t you enjoy it? Being a getaway driver. Being a part of this?”

Baby looked away. He couldn’t stand there and deny there wasn’t some sort of gain, some sort of thrill. But then there’s all the other shit. The stuff that counted. The stuff that hurt.

“Has someone used all their vocabulary for the day?” As it was said, Baby knew it was a way of Doc getting something from him, but Baby couldn’t stop himself.

“Fuck you.”

“Now Baby, that’s starting to sound like a promise more than a threat.”

To that Baby felt his face feeling like it was burning, growing red. Turning away, Baby marched for the door.

“Don’t you dare walk out of here, Baby.”

Reaching the door, Baby spun on the spot. “Fuck you,” it was then he realised Doc had followed him. The other was standing in front of him, in reaching distance and in his personal space. He only now noticed that the two of them were the same height.

“That’s all you’re going to say, Baby? You’re not a fucking parrot.”

Baby bit his tongue for a moment. Just one ‘fuck you’ wanted to seep out. It was childish, it was reacting, but Baby didn’t care about that. But it was as though Doc knew; he was then smiling. “It’s amazing, I didn’t know you did speak this much. It’s all becoming too much. You’re becoming too attached, and your snapping. You actually care for once.”

There was a pause until Baby almost spat out his words.

“Fuck you!”

Doc grabbed him by the jacket, slamming him against the door, his hands still gripped around the fabric.

“Baby, if you don’t stop acting like a fucking brat I’ll have to treat you like one.”

“Do it then.”

The slap across his face was forceful enough to dislodge the sunglasses until they went clattering to the floor. Baby brought his own hand to hold his face, the stinging and prickling sensation raised against his cheek. However, he wasn’t sure why the cold feeling ran up his spine.

Doc’s eyes were wide on him, shocked, his hand still raised in the stale air. Then Baby raised his posture, standing straight before forcefully pushing Doc away from him.

The threats that had always been there almost came true. Grabbing Baby’s right arm, Doc pulled it above his head, stretching Baby into an uncomfortable position. Using his lower arm, Doc pushed it against Baby’s neck, instantly forcing the other’s breathing to become restricted. Baby gasped, then was unable to get his breath back. Eyes looked up to Doc as he came closer, pressing himself against Baby to be threatening. Now Baby couldn’t escape, only if Doc allowed him to.

Baby screwed his eyes up, not being able to look at the other. In their proximity Baby hadn’t realised how he’s body was simply reacting to touches of any kind. One of the reasons for all these emotions was not having any release. He hoped Doc hadn’t noticed; kept his eyes closed and hoped this reaction was taken for fear.

Doc allowed his lower arm to come away from Baby’s throat, instead resting it against Baby’s chest. Opening his eyes, Baby kept his gaze to the side, to the floor where his sunglasses lay.

“Is this really about the money, Baby? Or the driving?”

Taking a quick glance to Doc, Baby noticed his stare and light expression. Baby looked away.

“Or is just pent up…” The other trailed from the last word, not speaking it aloud. Doc’s voice was then softer when he spoke again.

“Baby, I asked you a question.”

Screwing up his eyes once more, Baby just nodded. A part of him wanted to start crying, unsure why.

The arm against his chest moved, until a hand was lying flat against his stomach. Baby breathed heavily through his nose, eyes still crunched up at how the touch was driving him crazy. How soft it lay against his stomach, barely applying pressure.

“I take care of you, don’t I, Baby?”

Baby wasn’t sure if it was question or a statement, but Baby nodded anyway, giving a whimper. Over sensations of someone just being closer to him, a weight for him.

The other’s voice was even quieter as he spoke. “Do you want me to take care of this?”

Baby gave a single nod.

Then Doc’s hand moved down, brushing the front of his jeans, Baby inhaling sharply.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Baby.”

Baby just nodded.

From above, Doc released Baby’s right hand from his grasp slowly, allowing it to travel and hang loosely by Baby’s side. Hands joined to unfasten Baby’s trousers, before one hand disappeared under underwear, encapsulating Baby.

His breath out was jagged, not being able to breath at the sensation of Doc holding him. Then Doc’s free hand came to cradle the back of Baby’s neck, allowing the other’s head to rest against his shoulder.

There was a moment of stillness until Doc’s hand moved. A cry left Baby, feeling overwhelmed.

The hand worked slow at first, helping to build up. Baby placed his face into Doc’s shoulder, almost digging his face into him, hiding his eyes do he didn’t have to see. Breath shaky and hot, Baby melted into the touches, a thumb rubbing circles into the nape of his neck.

Pace built up, Doc moving Baby through sensations that made his mind blank. Heat spread throughout him, skin tingling, until he climaxed into Doc’s hand.

A tear spilled from his eye as Baby lent back up slight, face no longer pressed against the other.

Doc held him for a moment, until his hand disappeared from around him, removing from his trousers. A long unsteady breath left Baby as Doc used the hand on the back of Baby’s neck to bring the other’s face up, to look at him.

“Better?”

The two held eye contact for a moment. Baby never noticed how Doc’s eyes were an array of hazel shades. Then Baby was looking away, no longer able to hold the gaze.

“Better.”

It was as though Doc was folding him back into his arms and keeping him steady. The hold lasted for a minute, Baby just trying to ground into the sensations, feeling the way his body reacted and stilled.

Hands then fell from him, Doc starting to move away. Baby leant against the door, knowing if he moved away he would fall. Bending down, shakily, Baby picked up his sunglasses before standing up and fastening his jeans. He watched as Doc moved to the desk, grabbing the two duffle bags from the table.

When Doc walked back to him, Baby stepped aside to leave the door free. The other’s hand was on the door handle, opening it, but instead of walking through turned to Baby. Holding the gaze, Baby looked to the corridor and wiped his eye. Taking a step forward, he was stopped as Doc held out the wedge of money from earlier. Baby took it as the two left together.


End file.
